“Oh, that,” said Caroline nonchalantly. “I decided it did not suit me after all, and so I returned it when I went into town with Charlotte. The only other hat that fitted me was this one.”
“I think it is time for us to leave,” said Annabelle diplomatically.
And before Hetty could react, she swept Caroline out of the house.
“It was very wrong of you to buy that hat against your mother’s express wishes,” she said, as they went down the steps.
“Mama never expressed a wish either way, she simply said it was too dashing for a girl of my age, but as I was then only sixteen years old, and as I am now seventeen, of course that changes things.”
“Ah,” said Annabelle, smiling at Caroline’s youthful logic — or should it be youthful impudence? “Of course!”
They waited for the curricle to return from the end of the street, where the tiger had been walking the horses, and then they climbed in.
“What—?” asked Annabelle in surprise, for a portmanteau and a hatbox had been crammed into the carriage. “Did your mama not send your boxes on?”
“Yes, she sent them on yesterday with my maid. But I forgot to put a few things in, and so I packed a box this morning and had the footman carry it downstairs,” said Caroline airily.
“And no doubt the ‘few things’ you forgot are dresses of which your mama would not approve.”
“There is nothing wrong with them, I do assure you. They are both of them quite adorable.”
“I am sure they are. But are they respectable?”
“They are respectable enough for a vicar’s daughter,” replied Caroline. “But they happen to be in various colours, and Mama is so fussy about me wearing white. I cannot think why. It does not suit me, and, anyway, young ladies no longer wear exclusively white. That fashion went out when Mama was a girl.”
“As long ago as that?” enquired Annabelle.
“Are you laughing at me?” asked Caroline suspiciously.
“Not at all.”
They seated themselves in the carriage. Annabelle took the reins, and then they were off.
Caroline revelled in the admiring glances that were directed towards them as they set out, though she was sensible enough to realize that they were directed towards Annabelle rather than herself, and she dreamed of the day when she would be the one holding the reins. What a figure she would cut as she dashed through the streets!
“How did you learn to drive?” asked Caroline. “Did your papa teach you?”
“No,” said Annabelle. “It was … someone else.”
Her mind flew back to the day when Daniel had said to her, “It is about time you learned to handle the reins.” And she remembered him putting them in her hands, then putting one arm around her so that he could show her how to hold them properly, and the way it made her feel, with his hands around hers and his breath on her cheek and …
“Aunt Annabelle!”
Caroline’s cry brought her back to the present just in time, as a brewer’s cart rolled out from a side road and she had to swerve in order to avoid it. The carriage behind her was not so lucky, and the sound of heated cries and barrels rolling on to the road followed them as they headed out to the country.
Green fields took the place of crowded streets. The air was fresh here, without the smell of fish or pies or a hundred other things, savoury and unsavoury, which perfumed the London streets. Annabelle breathed in deeply. It was good to be alive.
“I am looking forward to the party,” she said.
“But I am not. It will be very boring,” said Caroline with a yawn. “House parties always are.”
“There might be some interesting people there,” said Annabelle.
“And there might not.”
“There speaks the experience of seventeen,” said Annabelle, laughing.
“I know already who will be there. A retired general who will pinch my cheek and call me a clever puss. An old admiral who will talk of nothing but the sea and try to tell me all about the Battle of Flamingo—”
“I believe you mean the Battle of St Domingo.”
“And a whole bunch of mamas who will look daggers at me because I am prettier than their daughters.”
“But once they learn you are to marry, they will breathe a sigh of relief. They will thank heaven for Able because they will know that, for all your pretty face, you are no competition for their daughters. A girl in love has no interest in anyone else. She does not like to dance with the most eligible bachelors, she prefers to sit at the side of the room.”
Caroline looked at her suspiciously, but Annabelle preserved a countenance of angelic innocence, and they carried on their way.
They stopped shortly after midday, choosing an idyllic spot in a country lane. The tiger climbed over the stile and into the neighbouring field, where he spread out a rug and began to unpack the picnic hamper. Annabelle and Caroline strolled along the lane to stretch their legs before settling themselves on the rug, beneath the spreading arms of a chestnut tree.
“How much farther is it to Whitegates?” asked Caroline.
“We have a few hours more to travel,” said Annabelle.
“Can I drive for part of the way?”
“Very well. I will give you your first lesson after lunch.”
They started to eat their picnic. It was a delicate affair of chicken and ham, with crusty bread and newly churned butter, and they finished their repast with peaches and grapes.
Their meal over, Caroline looked at Annabelle hopefully, and, with a laugh, Annabelle said, “Very well. I was going to suggest another stroll first, but I see that you are eager to begin. The road here is straight and flat. You may set us on our way.”
Their things were soon packed and the two ladies climbed into the curricle, followed by the tiger.
With the reins in her hands, Caroline’s childishness dropped away, as Annabelle had hoped it would, and she applied herself seriously to the task in hand.
“Very good,” said Annabelle approvingly, as the curricle rolled smoothly along a straight, flat stretch of road. “You have light hands.”
Caroline glowed under the praise.
She was reluctant to give the reins back to Annabelle when the road became more difficult, but after a moment’s hesitation she did so with a good grace.
They had not gone very much further when the wind turned colder and the sky darkened. Soon it began to rain. It was nothing more than a light drizzle to begin with, but as the curricle had no hood, they were exposed to the elements.
“Urgh!” said Caroline, as the rain began to fall more heavily. “Is there nowhere we can shelter? We will soon be wet through.”
A quick glance at the countryside showed that there were no barns or stables in sight.
Annabelle said, “We must just go on and hope the rain lets up. It is only a shower, no doubt, and the sun will soon be out again.”
The English weather answered this optimism with its usual reply, and no sooner had Annabelle finished speaking than the sky clouded over threateningly and transformed itself from blue to grey. The horses became skittish, and when a flash of lightning sent them rearing, it took all of Annabelle’s skill to hold them.
“It is no good, we cannot go on,” said Annabelle, shouting to make herself heard above the thunder.
“Look ahead! There!” said Caroline, who had been looking about them. She pointed through the pouring rain, which had rendered the summer afternoon as dark as night. “I can see a light!”
Annabelle saw an orange glow shining through the blackness and, hunching her shoulders against the rain, drove the horses cautiously onwards. They did not like the weather any more than she did. They tried to turn their heads against the wind but she held them true to their course.
To make matters worse, the road was slick with mud, and the curricle slid from side to side. She saw Caroline gripping her seat tightly with her hands.